


Space, Endless

by goldblumesque



Series: The Quilloki Collection [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M, back seat driving, i am too like fuck, loki is scared of space, space is dangerous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 05:40:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14993987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldblumesque/pseuds/goldblumesque
Summary: Reckless space driving is nerve-wracking to watch, especially if you're actually there.





	Space, Endless

"You're going to burn something out." It had started out as a mildly humorous advisory, Loki hovering as ever with an observing eye and a mouth prone to hardly being shut. A core flaw, he knows, but one embedded into his nature that’ll never be gone. Anyone expecting otherwise is a fool.

He can sense it in the way the ship's engine seems to whistle and strain, even if less attuned ears can't hear it. He's never once doubted Quill's expertise as a pilot, not legitimately, but this cluster of asteroids is like something from the very depths of science fiction story. Story in which they crash, lose some vital working part of the ship, or otherwise suffer and Loki can feel the likelihood of avoiding such a fate wither around him the faster they hurtle through it.

Silver-seeming gaze flickers about the view of jagged carbon and wills them not to strike the damn ship; worry is shrouded in apparent nonchalance otherwise. Well, save for his hand steadying with a firm grip against the back of Quill's pilot chair, but he'll put that down to turbulence. Not that his heart hammers in his chest at the mere thought of being cast out into the void of space. Not in the slightest. Anxiety creeps into him like the cold.

"You're one heck of a back-seat driver, you know that?" It's not quite as cutting as he reserves for the likes of Rocket critiquing his flying granted, but it's still offered up by Peter with a decent snap. A quick swerve to avoid spinning debris, hardly enjoyable. They'll live, he supposes, and perhaps it's a little karmic realignment for smart-ass chip-ins from Loki if anything else. The god rights himself and resumes his argument over Peter's shoulder despite it.

"Slow down, the speed of them and us isn't helping, _you're going to crash---"_ Assertive would be the word if Loki's voice wasn't shaking in his throat. Confidence a lie, just for a moment. He can’t afford to stray, become lost in space again and swallowed up by such a dark void.

Rocket in second and he's glancing between the pair, seeking some notion of how to proceed. If ever there were unfortunate co-pilots, Loki counts the mouthy little mammal as a front-runner indeed. Another near miss and it shakes the trickster. Gasp of terror over his shoulder proves only to spur Quill on to make more reckless dives.

"Just trust me, I've got this!" It's like a child arguing for leadership in some game, hotter climes of temper biting through. Peter's good at this. The one thing he has confidence in. _Trust. Him. Please._ Knuckles are white against the ship's controls, as are Loki's at his chair. A turn too sharp and they could veer off so far, shatter the ship's frame, send them spiralling. It's cold out there. They both know it is. Quill wouldn’t risk it. Not by his own very lax margins, any way.

Peter's frown deepens, Loki's eyes widen; they're to meet an asteroid headlong at speed. Bee-lining for it, in all his so-called wisdom, and a thunderous bark will be the last words of the trickster. Reflex doesn't give him much other choice, reaching forth and a sinewed hand clutches as if talons into carrion at that celestial shoulder.

_**"QUILL!"** _

It’s a cold sweat that greets him as the ship drops many, many miles and out of the asteroid cluster. Peter’s laughing that cocksure pilot’s kind of revelry, and from passive dismissal of the rest of his paltry crew it’s clear this is a common occurrence. More pity for them.

“Reckless fool.” A thud of a Jotun fist against pilot chair and Loki makes to back off, pacing his nerves away. Fingers flex and curl, no longer so claw-like and damning and it’s merely a matter of calming such a rampant and unquestioning fear. Returns, swiftly sometimes, only to be gone just as quickly.

Peter’s own come-down is thawing that white hot sense of pride, vindication tasting less sweet now that it’s clear the god might actually be shaken. Frown returns, light and wondering as he glances at the darker confines of the ship. A swift look, even mouthing a question toward Rocket. _‘What’d I do?’_

The raccoon does nothing but give a scoff and shake his head, soon nudging them into a safer orbit and away from any more dangerous obstacles. A beat, a considerable one that seems loaded with a kind of static charge. Though, that might be just Peter's concern that he's done something irreparably wrong. The thought irritates, he's not sure on who's behalf. A swift inhale follows.

"Loki-"  
               _"Don't."_

Quill's mouth shuts again as quickly as it opened. And so he'll just... not. Cool. Fine. But it's not cool or fine or anything in between, and he resigns himself to a bout of tense and silent flying that'll last until disgruntled sense dissipates. Or he can't remember why he was mad in the first place, but that'll probably take a little longer. Gods, man. He's sure he'll never learn how to deal.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably gonna write more on this but hell this just came to me in some puff of smoke. There will be a follow up conversation almost guaranteed. Kudos, comment, etc. I love to hear from you ♡


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